"What is there to cry about?" he asked. The tears glistening on the dusky cheek astonished him beyond measure; and as an African face lends itself to the expression of sorrow more than any other type of human countenance, he was profoundly moved, and without knowing the cause, by mere sympathy felt ready to cry himself.
"You don't see! You don't understand anything, Bernard. You stand there at the door like a stick. What is the use of you I can't tell."
Bernard would have felt the injustice to be unbearable if he had not had a strong sense of his own merits. Moreover, it was obvious that Aglae was thoroughly upset. As to the man in the too-much-laced coat, Bernard remembered that he was dressed very splendidly indeed. He had called first in company of a very fine English gentleman, a friend of the family, and he had repeated the call always with that same friend. It was a fact he had never called by himself yet. The family had dined with him only the day before, as Bernard knew very well because he had had to call the hackney coach and had given the address, not to mention the confidential task of carrying the Marquise down the stairs and then up again on their return from that entertainment. There could be nothing wrong with a man with whom the family dined. And the Marquise herself too, she who, so to speak, never went out anywhere!
"What has he done?" he asked without marked excitement. "I have never seen you so distressed. Miss Aglae."
"Me upset? I should think me upset. I fear him wants carry off Mlle. Adèle—poor child."
This staggered the faithful Bernard. "I should like him to try," he said pugnaciously. "I keep a cudgel there in this passage." A scornful exclamation from the maid made him pause. "Oh!" he said in a changed tone, "carry her off for a wife? Well, what's wrong in that?"
"Oh! you silly!" whimpered Aglae. "Can't you see him twice, twice and a half, the age of Miss Adèle?"
Bernard remained silent a minute. "Fine-looking man," he remarked at last. "Do you know anything else about him?"
"Him got plenty of money," sobbed out Aglae.
"I suppose the parents will have something to say about that," said Bernard, after a short meditation. "And if Mlle. Adèle herself . . ."